


The story of the first Siren

by noclueforausername



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-09 22:04:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1999590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noclueforausername/pseuds/noclueforausername
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story told by a father about the first SIren</p>
            </blockquote>





	The story of the first Siren

When I was a small girl, at the age of 8 my father would tell me stories late in the night, not every night only on the ones where I would wake up terrified from nightmares of monsters and ghosts. My favourite story he would tell me was this one particular story this night after a dreadful nightmare. I have to admit it is not really a story to tell a young child. So let the tale begin.

It was an overly warm night, boiling hot, the air thick with heat. I remember waking up in sweats, shivering and gasping. Calling out for my father I wrapped my duvet around me searching my dark room for shadowy figures that would want to cause me harm.  
“Darling” my father breathed as he flicked the switch to the light. As the room filled with the warm glow from the bulb my father moved towards me wrapping his long arms around me and squeezing me close, protecting me from the monsters of my dreams. “Was it another bad dream?”  
Moving my head from the warm comforts of my father’s shoulder I moved my eyes so they were staring into the comforts of my father’s who’s eyes were deep blue as the ocean. Moving my head, my curls falling over my eyes, I nodded.  
I watched as my father’s eyes closed and with one last squeeze I felt him release from the comforting hug. It wasn’t long till my bed suddenly dipped besides me. Looking to my side I saw my father had sat next to me. Leaning into my father he placed his arm around me protecting me from the monsters.  
“I think a story will help, would you like that?” my father asked.  
“Yes… Please” I asked, I always was forgetful with my manners my father used to say it was a good thing that I was demanding and that would be helpful when I was older, well he wasn’t wrong.

“Okay, let me tell you the story of the first siren.  
Hundreds of years ago men believed it as highly unlucky for women to sail on ships and boats and that the crew will have bad luck among the voyage and terrible happenings will fall upon them, and in this belief it was against the law for any women, even little girls like you daring, to be on a boat that was undertaking a voyage.

Illyria, a bright young woman with dirty blonde hair and freckles. Illyria had the thirst to go to sea a constant need to be out on the waves to feel the air breeze around her and to smell the saltiness of the water and to most of all to feel free, and she wasn’t going to allow any laws to stop her.

Well on this one day, when the sun was up and the people of the village was hurrying about, Illyria made her way towards the harbour where all the greatest boats and ships had docked for the previous night. Lucky for Illyria the dock was full of hundreds of people busying about with their work and preparing the ships for their adventurous voyages, she was able to slip past a certain old looking guard and onto this one magnificent ship. This ship it was enormous, beautiful, it was dark and gloomy with sales the colour of the ocean on a dark night, a mystical feel surrounded the ship that Illyria was automatically drawn towards it.

In entering the ship Illyria instantly made her way down to the haul of the ship in fear of being caught. She found a small corner between barrels of rum that she was certain would conceal her from the eyes of men who believed women were bad tokens.

Illyria was not a dumb woman she prepared for this task in advance, she acquired the perfect attire for her adventure, she did not wear a busty dress that would be to enormous to wear and a struggle to walk in instead she wore a beige knee length dress that hanged loosely around her frame and leather ankle boats that sailors wore. She did not think a dress would be fitting for this task but did not want to risk the questions in buying trousers and a shirt as women in those days would never have done.  
Though Illyria was not so lucky, in the darkened night her hiding place was found. The sailors in spotting her were outraged and terrified and scrambled to get hold of her and pulled her by her wrists to the deck.

Upon entering the deck Illyria was pushed to the floor in front of the captain’s feet. The Captain was not a bad man and did not want to harm the young woman. But paranoia of the tales and myths of the bad luck that women bring to those on the ship out on the sea harboured his mind.  
“Bring me rope; we cannot have a woman on the ship we have to get rid of her, Now!” The Captain ordered to his men who shuffled about desperately in search of rope.  
Illyria upon hearing this was terrified. “Please, don’t I beg of you. I just wanted to feel the sea” she tried arguing but she was unheard as the riot on the ship was chaos and panic.  
Illyria’s legs at the knee and ankles were bound together by ropes that itched and scratched.  
Her wrists were also bound by rope.  
Eyes blurred by salty tears she blinked and was faced now with the murky sea and waves crashing into the haul of the ship. Hands gripped on her body as they maneuverer her across the railing of the ship.  
With hips now digging into the dark wood railing, she stared into the depths of the sea that she knew for sure will be her end.  
“I’m so sorry… I really am” soft croaky words were whispered into her ear and that’s when she knew it was time.

Iced water now enclosed her form taking her in and swallowing her up. Slowly sinking deeper in to the ocean Illyria stared towards the slowly retrieving surface; an ache in her chest burned as she slowly could no longer see the pale light of the moon. Her vision going black.

Hours passed as she slowly sunk, she could no longer believe if she was alive or not. Maybe she was dead and this was the afterlife just complete darkness.  
But then something happened. Illyria became aware of a soft surface hitting her back; shocked she pushed her heels into the surface; her heels hit a grainy soft surface. Sand.  
But how was she still alive, she had been beneath water with what felt like hours she had slowly sunk toward the sea bed and she had not died.  
Twisting the itchy rope between her wrist she struggled free of the bounds.   
Illyria placed her hand slowly towards her mouth, placing her fingertips on her pink lips she took in a depth breath. Shakily she breathed out salty water washing over her tongue and through her fingertips. She couldn’t believe she was breathing under water. She slowly repeated her actions and became comfortable with how the taste of salt now replaced the cold air she once breathed.

Odd dark shapes now filled her vision, her eyes becoming used to her darkened surroundings.  
Squeezing her eyes tightly shut and opening them again, she noticed she was able to see more clearly. Repeating this several times she was now able to see the sea bed. The paleness of the sand on the floor, the deep blue colour of the water that surrounded her, the dark and murky seaweed that floated around her head and through the water. 

Now being able to see clearly Illyria was able to remove the rope bounds from her legs freeing herself. She had heard of mermaids before but they had tails and she did not. She thought no longer of these mermaids and deemed herself separate from such creatures. 

For years Illyria would swim through the ocean watching the fish swim carelessly around her. Only a few times did she dare to swim to the surface of the water in fear she would lose this ability to live under the water. With relief this did not happen and was free to enjoy the sun, the air and to walk across rocks and beaches when she was near land.

Many years she was alone, and became wrathful towards men who feed her to this lonely solitude lifestyle. Within her wrath she deemed a vow to punish men by luring them to her with her voice, she knew she was a beautiful singer her parents and villagers told her that, that her voice was one that no man could resist, so in this she would lure them and once she had them in her grasp she would kill them, drown them in the way they intended for her.

For a hundred years this is how she lived her lonesome life, continuously satisfied of the deaths of the men that she had caused.  
Though Illyria would no longer be alone.  
In one of her trips out in to the depths of the ocean, Illyria was laid upon the sea bed watching as small fish circled her arms. In doing so a strange figure was slowly approaching her.  
In curiosity she swam towards the object, as she got closer to the object Illyria realised that it was not an object as she originally thought but a woman.  
It had been many years since Illyria was in the same situation as this poor woman was now. Illyria slowly sank this woman who she realised was also tightly bound by ugly ropes and settled her on the sea bed.   
Illyria was not sure if this woman was alive or if she was dead, though out of respect for this poor woman Illyria untied the bounds from her legs and wrist.  
At this the women withered about in panic and opened her eyes they were unseeing, obvious to Illyria that they have not adjusted to the darkness of the ocean.  
Illyria sat for hours with this woman in the depths of the ocean waiting patiently for her to adjust to the new way of breathing, the panic of thinking you are dead, and the realisation you are alive.  
The woman to Illyria’s relief adjusted well to this and trusted her to show and explain what has happened once they returned to the surface to speak. Illyria explained her own story to the woman and her vow to lure and kill the men who killed her. The Women whose name was revealed to be Elizabeth shared the wrath and anger toward men after being thrown too from a ship. 

Together Illyria and Elizabeth swam the depths of the ocean in search of women who too have been thrown from ships, recruiting them to their cause and to protect each other.

You can find these women throughout the oceans and on islands luring men in with their songs, seducing them, and then killing them in wrath and vengeance.

Within their time they have grown the name of ‘Sirens’ due to their way of luring men with their songs and voices.   
Men fear them and the Sirens could not be happier at this, as this is what they hoped, this is what the first Siren Illyria wanted, her vow has stuck and has not yet to be broken.”

As I said it is not a story you should really tell a young child but it worked, I would feel safe listening to my father tell the story, all the stories he used to tell me but the Siren was always my favourite.

I’m 20 now and he’s already gone I miss him greatly, I wish he could tell me one last story but that’s not going to happen as that stuff only happens in fairy tales and bedtime stories. But he’s somewhere, I know that and I hope he’s telling stories.


End file.
